Love, Your Secret Santa
by Alyss Hart
Summary: Matthew hates the idea of the annual Secret Santa week at work. His name is either usually drawn and forgotten about, or he's given a few cheap gifts once or twice. This year though his week begins with a bouquet of roses and...a love note! Is it a cruel joke set up by his cousin working in the mail room, or is someone in the office really in love with him?


**DISCLAIMER: Hetalia nor any of its copyrights belong to me. I'm only using them for entertainment, and receiving no compensation from anything written here. **

**A/N: This story is a gift for .com for the 2014 RVP Sugar Shack holiday exchange.**

****Secret Santa.

The time of the year that everyone in the office either dreaded or looked forward to. The one week that occurred around the holiday season where either the tides of fortune turned in one's favor or not. For some it was a chance to get petty revenge on that coworker that spilt their coffee all over that one draft that had just been edited. For others it meant sucking up to their supervisor with expensive luxuries in hopes that the end of the week would bring promotions or pay raises.

For Matthew he had gotten his cousin. Again.

It was the third year he had pulled Alfred's name, and he swore it was rigged. He wouldn't be surprised if it was honestly. The mail clerk made many friends in the building (had a bit of dirt on a few others), and he knew Matthew would have to get him nice gifts. Nothing extravagant of course, but he was guaranteed to get at least one box of chocolates or some other gift the man would like. Otherwise he would probably be hearing from Uncle Arthur (and thus his Mother) about how he neglected to give Alfred anything nice for the "event", and how he should put effort into it even if he was his cousin.

He made that mistake the first year, and one rather long winded Christmas dinner later ensured he'd never forget it. Maybe Alfred was hoping Matthew would drop the ball in hopes of a repeat. After all, he could be a little shit when he wanted to be. Either way he would make sure there was a gift dropped off at Alfred's desk each day from his "Secret Santa".

Not that Matthew expected much in return figuring Alfred had gotten him, and if he didn't, someone that didn't know who the quiet little editor was. Someone who would probably get a few half-assed things from the corner store (dirty magazines, candy bars, and cheap cigars were amongst gifts he had gotten in the past) wrapped in plastic bags that would trail off and stop in the middle of the week.

He definitely wasn't expecting the vase of roses to be waiting for him in his office that morning. At first he had to stop himself from getting excited. Checking for an envelope or a note that said they were for someone else. After all the secretary, Madeline, had the same last name as him, and had often ended up with his mail on accident when Alfred got distracted with his flirting.

He did see the note though, but it was definitely not Madeline's name on it.

**Matthew,**

**I hope you know flowers have a language of their own. **

**Love,**  
**Your Secret Santa**

Flustered would probably be the best word to describe how Matthew suddenly felt looking at the vaguely familiar handwriting. It wasn't often that he was given anything like this. Let alone from a stranger. At least he figured it was from a stranger. It could always be someone's idea of a cruel joke as everyone knew the man was perpetually single (and on the nights he happened to accompany a few people to a local pub how long its been since he was had sex).

Matthew bit his lip before putting the card onto his desk. Not wanting to think about who could've done it at the second. It would probably drive him crazy before the end of the week depending on what the rest of the gifts were. After all, who would start out a Secret Santa week sending by sending roses (thirteen of them, he noted, and such a pretty purple color)? The possible answers left him feeling a little breathless for both good and bad reasons.

Before he could think of them though there was a knock at his door followed by it opening.

"Mr. Williams. You said you needed to talk to me this morning about the draft?"

Matthew turned around quickly trying to hide the flowers from immediate view. Also trying to erase the bright blush appearing on his cheeks. Which unfortunately wasn't happening as the other stepped into the room.

Getting caught lost in his thoughts like that was probably comparable to being caught with his pants down. Especially when it was one Mister Matthieu "But please call me Matt" Bonnefois who was doing the "catching".

"Err…yes. Sorry Matt. I hadn't a chance to look at my schedule yet, so I don't have everything laid out. Though if you give me a second," Matthew chattered a little anxiously as a fumbled around his desk looking for the papers he needed to talk to the agent about.

"I can come back if you need me to?" Matt asked looking ready to step back out the door.

"No!" he said suddenly before catching himself, "I mean I have it right here. I'm just a little frazzled this morning. Sorry."

He held a mess of papers up towards the taller man showing that he had them. He might not have been ready to have their meeting, but it was his fault that he wasn't. He definitely wasn't going to send the man away and expect him to clear time for him later.

Plus, Matthew liked seeing Matt. It wasn't like he had a crush on him or anything (he definitely didn't), but he was nice to talk to. Some of their coworkers might shy away from the man who looked he could probably fight a grizzly bear or something in that tight (oh so very tight) suit, but Matthew found really liked his company.

"Okay then. If you're sure your alright. I mean you do look a little flushed, and I don't want you to do anything you don't feel up to," Matt said averting his gaze to the vase of flowers as his own face flushed a bit.

"I'm fine. Fine. Now if you'd sit down I'd like to discuss this new writer you took on. The writing was good, but are you sure he's up for making a sequel or more? Since this doesn't feel quite finished yet, and I don't want to send a yes to the publisher without knowing if this is supposed to be a one hit," Matthew said falling into business mode easily.

Preferring the ins and out of the writing world instead of whatever awkward dance the two of them were doing. Especially as Matt kept glancing at the flowers and then towards him. Maybe he was wondering who has sent Matthew flowers, or maybe (probably delusionally) wondering why he hadn't sent any himself.

But for that to happen it meant Matt would need to like him. Which obviously would never happen. After all they were just friends, and he could tell by the way Matt would get distracted sometimes that the man liked someone as more than friends. Whoever they were were really lucky to have such a look cast just by thoughts of them.

Turning his attention to the world outside his thoughts not wanting to get lost in them again Matthew absentmindedly scrawled a note to figure out what the flowers he had received "said" like the note mentioned.

_

It became a game almost.

For Matthew to guess what would be laying on his desk each morning of that week. He never did of course, but then he really did like the surprises that came. Especially since they always seemed tailored to him. He figured either his Secret Santa knew him already or had someone on the inside (and the latter would explain why his cousin had all but disappeared over the last few days).

Still he enjoyed it all. Especially the flowers that also came with each day.

Tuesday came with a box of maple candy that reminded him of his grand-mère and a small bundle of white and pink flowers he found out were primroses. The candy obviously hand made, either by his "Santa" or a bakery, was savored that evening after he went home. It was almost too sweet, which was just how he liked it, and left him trying to soothe a stomachache from his overindulgence. Like the day before a noted was attached

**Matthew,**

**Something sweet and something simple. I think that's how I feel about you most days.**

**Love, **  
**Your Secret Santa**

Thankfully Wednesday didn't include sweets. Instead he found a single yellow tulip resting on top of a folded scarf. He had to admit that his Secret Santa had a way with words, but not so much when it came to wrapping as nothing that week had really come in any proper wrapping. Still, just like the little white moose pairs that decorated the ends of the red scarf, it was things like that that made Matthew smile. Though the note tied on to the flower with the string made him blush more than anything.

**Matthew, **

**I saw this and thought of you. Even though Moose don't mate for life it doesn't mean that humans won't. **

**Love, **  
**Your Secret Santa**

Thursday, though, Matthew would have to say was his favorite gift. He was almost breathless hoping to get to his office early that morning. Maybe to catch a glimpse of his gift being dropped off, and hopefully of who was delivering it. Though there was already something waiting on him when he got in. On his desk sat a stuffed polar bear with a few pale purple flowers (lilacs he was told at lunch by Madeline) and a thick envelope sitting next to it. Careful not to rip the contents when he opened it Matthew pulled out an "adoption" certificate, a fact sheet on polar bears, a picture of a cub barely bigger than Matthew's hand, and another Santa note.

**Matthew, **

**His name is Frost, and he's a cub lives at the Toronto Zoo. Since you've "adopted" him you're entitled to a personal visit to see him once he gets old enough.**

**Love, **  
**Your Secret Santa.**

_

Then came Friday.

The last official day of Secret Santa gifts in the office. The day most would reveal who they were, and the reason Matthew had next to no sleep the night previous.

Since after his Thursday gift had been put into a special place of honor where his dog couldn't reach it and tear out its stuffing the man found himself anxious for what would be found the next morning. More importantly who it was all from.

He half feared it was still only a cruel joke, and the rug would be pulled out from beneath him in front of everyone. Though the other half of his thoughts was crowded with questions about who and why. Since it was pretty obvious (if it wasn't all a set up) that his Secret Santa had feelings that existed outside of his week long obligation of gifts.

When he finally tumbled into the publishing house the next morning though there was nothing waiting for him. It made his heart threaten to sink as he gnawed on his lip. Breaking skin threatening to happen under the strain of his worrying.

Though business had to go on like usual. Even if he did keep staring at the empty corner of his desk instead of at his screen and papers. He didn't even have his usual bi-weekly meeting with Mr. Bonnefois to distract him as it had been moved back till after lunch for some reason. Of course every knock on his door or footstep in the hall made his pulse race in a steady thrum of Maybes.

Until it stopped when Alfred came in carrying a perfectly red rose and a paper outstretched in one hand.

"Alfred?" he said weakly, a hollow feeling slithering through him, "What is this?"

Of course. It had all been one big fat joke orchestrated by his cousin. He felt like laughing even if it would make him dissolve into hysterics. Revenge in the name of Secret Santa was his at last. Oh, but Matthew wouldn't let him get his victory so easy. While his uncle could be temperamental when it came to Alfred his mother was vicious when her baby was hurt.

"Huh? Mail Call. I got asked to make sure you got this before lunch. Guess its important, but don't worry I didn't peek," he said wryly with the same shit eating grin he had whenever he knew something Matthew didn't.

Nodding woodenly he took the flower, putting it on the desk without admiring it or placing it in the vase like the others, and grabbed the note with enough force to crumple its edges. He could only imagine what it said on the inside. Probably something along the lines of "Jokes on you. Happy Holidays." or a multitude of words he could only imagine about what some of his coworkers said about their quiet lonely Canadian.

Flipping it open he found instead…

**Dear Matthew,**

**Lunch? **

**Love, **  
**Your Secret Santa.**

With the note was an address to a nearby cafe. One he had been to plenty of times when his schedule allowed it. It was quiet and offered plenty of privacy for those looking to get away from the busy offices that surrounded it. The Italian man that owned the place tended to dote on Matthew, slipping him a cannoli with his coffees and sandwiches on slow days, but he severely doubted it was from him.

Though it was enough that he knew it wasn't his cousin responsible for all this. Enough to melt his worries a little. Not enough to clear his mind, but it did make him reach out to grab Alfred's arm as he left.

"You know who did this don't you?" Matthew's eyes narrowed trying to look for any signs of suspicion on Alfred's face.

"Maybe," Alfred drew out, "But that's for me to know and you to find out. Now, go to Lunch."

It took Matthew a moment to think about that, but Alfred was already halfway out of the room.

"What the heck do you know about my Lunch plans Alfred?! You said you didn't peek you little shit!" his voice raising enough for a passing assistant (Ludwig or something) to shoot him a look.

"Thanks for the bacon of the month thing cuz! See you at Christmas! You can thank me then!" the other called out as he all but ran the rest of the way out of the small office.

First Matthew closed the door quietly, and then not so quietly slung expletives towards the walls until he was out of energy.

Then he went to lunch.

_

The little cafe was almost silent. The breakfast crowd already cleared out and the lunch rush not yet setting in. It was probably too early for lunch in anyone's head, but clearly he was expected.

"Signor Williams!" Feliciano, the bubbly cafe owner and main cook, was almost bouncing on his feet as Matthew walked in.

Sweeping him into a quick hug before Matthew could even get a good five feet into the place the smaller man started leaning him towards a quiet corner talking animatedly, "Your friend said you were coming! He's already got your table ready and everything. I'll get you both some of that struffoli you like so much, but you know the menu so just tell me when you're ready. Just try to get him to eat something more than coffee, si? No one can live off caffè alone. Especially when there's things like Carbonara and Ciceri e Tria in the world."

The general good mood the other seemed to exude calmed Matthew down as he watched the other talk about food, his free hand gesturing wildly in the air. Not even noticing that there was anyone watching them till Feliciano had stopped talking.

It was silent once again as the two stared at each other. The Italian sensing that he was no longer needed made an excuse to grab the pastries he had mentioned to Matthew.

"…Matt," he said after a moment, "You…you're here?"

The other man's face blushed lightly as he couldn't seem to find any words to say for a moment, "Yeah. I'm here, and you're here."

"And?" Matthew asked tentatively.

"And I just wanted to let you know that thirteen roses mean you have a secret admirer. Lavender roses mean love at first sight. Primroses mean young love. Tulips, especially the yellow ones, mean hopeless love. Lilacs, stand for first love or at least the first emotions of love. As for red roses. Red roses always stand for love," Matt said in that soft rumbling voice that sometimes made Matthew's toes curl when he got passionate about something.

Though at the moment all Matthew felt like was that he was burning up. His face was probably bright red to his ears as he had felt his blush get deeper with each word from the other's mouth. He probably looked like a maple leaf.

"Matthew?" the other looked worried for a second when he didn't seem to respond at all.

He was still very much processing things, but somehow he was able to open his mouth enough to let out a quiet, "Yeah?"

"I may have had your cousin rig the Secret Santa exchange, so I could get you," Matt said looking away, ashamed like he had just confessed some horrible secret.

Matthew laughed. He couldn't stop it from tumbling out of him. His eyes crinkling at the edges as his glasses threatened to fall off as he leaned in on himself. He couldn't control it.

He was just so relieved.

It wasn't a bad joke on him. His cousin had set it up, but for once it was for a good reason. Not only that, but that hopeless crush he had on the agent wasn't so hopeless after all.

Then he saw the look on Matt's face. It was that crushed look that Matthew knew so well from getting rejected too many times.

"Matt.." he said straightening up reaching out to the other.

"If you didn't like me you could've just said something instead of laughing in my face," the other's stony face looked anywhere besides Matthew.

Sitting down and grabbing Matt's hand so he'd have to look at him Matthew took a deep breath, "I'm just relieved. You wouldn't believe how much of a mess I was this week. I was convinced that this, all these gifts and flowers and messages, were all too good to be true. That Alfred had pulled one of his elaborate pranks on me with his friends' help. It just…this…I like this. I really like you. Okay?"

It took a second for Matt to focus on Matthew with a slightly dumbfounded look on his face like he just been socked with a right hook.

"Really?" he said in a voice that tried too hard not to sound hopeful.

"Really really. Would you believe I thought you liked someone else? I was so jealous every time you got that dopey wishful look on your face when you thought I was distracted. I just wanted someone to think about me like that," Matthew was quiet when he said that looking down at his hand where it was still entwined with Matt's.

"I hope you know now who I was thinking about."

"If you say my cousin I'll pour that coffee on your lap, and walk right out of here."

"So long as you don't say you were expecting my brother when you walked in."

"You have a brother?" Matthew said looking up at the other.

"Well he's my stepbrother. Maman married his father when we were really little. Though I think its safe to say you weren't expecting him now," Matt's face was wry in a way Matthew didn't know he could be.

"You know. I think we should find something to eat before Feliciano tries to shove a plate of Agnolotti into your mouth. He thinks that you've had too much coffee, and that its going to ruin your appetite. Plus, don't you have a meeting after lunch?" he said unfolding the menu with a gleam in his eyes.

"I don't think they'll mind if I'm late. Especially if they knew I was having lunch with a person I think I could find myself falling very much in love with. If I haven't already," the other's voice was so low that Matthew almost didn't catch it.

He did though, and then he felt that familiar toe curling shiver run down his spine, "Love huh? Well he might. For the right price."

"Which is?" Matt's eyebrow rose up in question.

"A kiss?" Matthew's smile was coquettish as he leaned forward.

He noticed a crinkling sound as Matt leaned forward. A piece of paper that looked well worn and folded many times was just visible from his suit pocket, but for the moment Matthew didn't mention it. Though he wondered just what the other had written on it. Knowing the sometimes shy man had trouble getting things out he wouldn't be surprised if it was that same little speech about flowers Matt made when he walked in.

"Well. I think that can be arranged. Though I fear I might need to clear my schedule for the day just in case?"

"Just in case of what?"

Instead of answer though what Matthew got was even sweeter.

The gentle press of slightly chapped lips against his. So sweet that it made his eyes close as he hooked his free arm around the other's neck to pull him closer for more.

**A/N: As always reviews are appreciated, but not required. All fics written by me will always be posted first on my writing tumblr (nottaletellsall) and then on here, so if you wish to keep up with current writing please follow that blog for first looks. For any of those interested I am also considering some requests received through tumblr. **

**Thank you for reading. **


End file.
